Drunken Ramblings
by Littleforest
Summary: [Complete] Episode tag for 'Jolly Red Elf' (3x10). "My brain feels all fuzzy…" Lisbon has to escort an extremely drunk Jane home, which leads to some very interesting conversations.


**Disclaimer - **The Mentalist belongs to Bruno Heller and CBS. Not me. Obviously.

**A/N - **Hello one and all, and welcome to yet another Mentalist episode tag. I couldn't resist this one, especially since this was something that the episode did leave to our imaginations. I loved drunk Jane, and I wanted to see more of him, particularly with him interacting more with Lisbon, and thus, this one-shot was born! I hope you like it!

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**~ Drunken Ramblings ~**

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"...unless he answers my questions, his status as a CBI consultant will fall under immediate review," LaRoche continued, his eyes serious. "No more waiting. No more ducking."

"No you don't," Lisbon protested, turning towards LaRoche with an almost pleading look in her eyes. LaRoche remained unmoved. "Not now, no."

"Nope, s'alright Lisbon. I've got this one," Jane said to Lisbon, nodding just a little bit too hard for her to take him seriously. "I've got it."

Lisbon had known, from the moment that LaRoche turned up at the alcohol treatment centre after the conclusion of the case, that something bad was going to happen, and Jane's apparent confidence in his own abilities, even given his proven skills, didn't make her feel any better this time. Usually, she would push her concern away and let Jane deal with LaRoche himself, but tonight it was a little different.

Jane was drunk. Completely and ridiculously drunk.

By some miracle, he was managing not to slur his words, but the fact that he'd been unable to walk in a straight line without hanging his arm over her shoulder was a clear sign that he wasn't nearly as sober as he was trying to appear to be. Biofeedback or not, Jane was a human being.

A human being who had just drunk a ridiculous amount of whisky.

Lisbon shook her head as she watched Jane lumber off with LaRoche without so more as another glance in her direction. There was no way he was sober enough to deal with this properly, but she wasn't sure what she could do about it. If she protested, LaRoche would know that something was up, but if she said nothing, Jane would no doubt blow his own cover, so to speak. No matter how good Jane was at lying in normal circumstances, she had no idea whether he could do it drunk.

This was going to end badly, she just knew it…

Lisbon shook her shoulders slightly, but forced herself to walk away, leaving them to sit at the bench so that LaRoche could start his questioning. When Jane made up his mind, there was nothing she could ever do to change it, even as drunk as he was. She could only hope that he knew what he was doing.

Once she was a safe enough distance away, Lisbon turned back though, hoping to keep an eye on Jane. Even focusing as hard as she could, she couldn't make out what they were saying, but Jane was talking very animatedly and apparently smiling a lot. Not a good sign.

LaRoche seemed to be frowning at Jane as well, although since that seemed to be the man's constant state of expression, she couldn't really tell if he suspicious at Jane's behaviour or not. As she continued to watch them talk, she definitely hoped not…

Lisbon shook herself again, and crossed her arms, half of her hoping that they'd just hurry up and get this over with so that she could stop worrying and go home. All she seemed to do these days was either wait for Jane, or worry about him.

Luckily, the conversation – or interrogation– only lasted a couple more minutes, and before she knew it, Jane was on his way back, with LaRoche following not far behind him. The larger man's frown had deepened, she was sure of it. Definitely not a good sign.

"Lisbon," Jane greeted, before she could say anything. "Can you take me drunk now?"

"Jane…"

"I meant…home," he corrected, talking almost comically slowly. He sniggered to himself, which did little to improve Lisbon's mood. "Can you take me _home_?"

"Jane," she warned, shooting her best glare at him, and he sobered up slightly. "Will you stop it…?"

"Shhh," he stage-whispered. "Don't tell LaRoche…"

"Shut up, Jane," she hissed, glancing towards LaRoche as he finally joined them.

"Don't tell me what?" LaRoche asked, turning between the two of them.

"Lisbon's going to take me _home,_" Jane replied cheerfully, before Lisbon could speak. "She's definitely not going to take me drunk –"

"Jane, shut up," she hissed.

Judging by Jane's huge grin, the conversation/interrogation hadn't gone too badly, but with Jane in this state, there was still plenty of time for him to screw it up and get himself in trouble. God, Jane was a mess, and she felt her annoyance growing second by second. His hair was even scruffier than usual, his waistcoat was open and his shirt was ruffled and partly untucked from his pants. Somehow, however, he still managed to pull the look off. That annoyed her even more.

"Goodnight, LaRoche," Jane finally said with a bow, still grinning widely. His words were becoming slightly more slurred by the minute, and Lisbon knew she had to get him away from the other agent before he said something they would both regret.

LaRoche frowned, confirming Lisbon's worries in a second, and she almost held her breath in anticipation.

"Goodnight, Jane," he said slowly, looking between them with suspicion. Obviously he didn't know exactly what was wrong though, so apparently, even drunk, Jane was an excellent liar.

"Goodnight, LaRoche," Lisbon said with a respectful nod.

Without waiting for a reply from the larger man, however, Lisbon took the pause that followed as an opportunity and grabbed Jane by his arm, immediately directing him away.

"Hey," Jane protested, stumbling slightly, though Lisbon had no intention of lessening her grip.

"Come on, Jane," Lisbon muttered, glancing back nervously at LaRoche. To her relief, he'd already begun to walk in the opposite direction. "We need to get you out of here."

"I'm fine," Jane argued, still grinning. "Quite fine. In fact, if you just drop me by the nearest road, I'll catch a lift back to my motel…"

"You want hitchhike home?" Lisbon asked him incredulously. He stumbled as she turned direction, heading straight for her car, but she didn't slow down. "After everything you've just said about me taking you home?"

"Well, I can't exactly drive, can I?" he replied, as if the answer was obvious. "I keep seeing double…"

"You're so wasted," Lisbon replied, still dragging him to her car.

"I know," Jane grinned, blinking slowly as they continued to make wobbly progress. "Isn't it exciting?"

"Haven't you ever been drunk before?" she asked, grabbing him tightly to keep him from stumbling again. For a man who was usually so graceful, the whisky had completely messed up Jane's entire sense of co-ordination. She might as well have been dragging along a baboon for all the help she was getting from him…

"Oh, of course I have, Lisbon," he replied, slurring her name. "It's been a while though…I forgot how fun it was…"

"Yeah, lots of fun," she muttered sarcastically as she finally propped him against the passenger door, taking a moment to catch her breath. There was no doubt about it; Jane had definitely lost a considerable amount of his control over his body in the last few minutes, and she was honestly surprised that he was still able to walk at all. Or stand, for that matter.

"Get in the car, Jane," she ordered, when he didn't seem to take the hint.

"Oh," he replied, and immediately began to fumble with the passenger door handle. After a few long seconds, in which his grin didn't falter once even though he was clearly struggling, he managed to get the door open. Lisbon sighed as Jane finally flopped into the seat with the grace of a giraffe on roller skates, but she refrained from commentating on it. Instead, after taking a deep breath that served mainly to calm her nerves after the stress of directing a drunk Jane to her car, Lisbon took her own seat behind the wheel and shut the door behind her.

"Right, Jane," she began, starting the car. "Get your seatbelt on. I'm taking you home to sleep this off."

"I'm fine," Jane replied immediately, nodding his head drunkenly. He made no move to do up his seatbelt.

"Jane," she barked. "Seatbelt. Now."

"Oh, right," Jane mumbled. Lisbon watched as Jane pulled the belt across his chest and tried to fix it in place. Even this simple task appeared to be too much for him in his drunken state though, and Lisbon felt her annoyance grow even more. Jane, however, remained happily unaffected by his current physical deficiencies. God, she was going to kill him…

"Dammit, Jane," she muttered.

"My hand feels floppy," Jane replied, grinning up at her as he held the belt across his chest.

"Floppy?"

"Yes, Floppy. I can't seem to move it properly…"

She sighed again and reached across to fix it into place for him, ignoring the suggestive lilt to his expression. Jane was a flirty drunk. Wonderful.

Doing her best to ignore him, she made sure that he was firmly fixed into place, before she turned back and began to pull the car out of the space, ready to drive them home.

One hour and then they would be home. She could handle Jane for that long, right?

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It was the longest drive in history, and by the time she pulled into her driveway, she was ready to kill Jane all over again.

"Stop humming," she hissed through clenched teeth as she parked the car in her driveway.

"Oh, hush Lisbon," Jane replied cheerfully, once he'd finished his song. "Humming is good for the soul."

"I will shoot you," she threatened as she turned off the engine.

"Nonsense," Jane said, with an elaborate wave of his hand that nearly made contact with his own face, though this didn't seem to faze him. "Imagine the paperwork. Anyway, I'm drunk."

"What difference would that make?"

"I don't know," Jane shrugged. "Where are we?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I may be drunk, but I'm fairly certain I don't live here."

"Exactly how much have you had to drink, Jane?" she muttered.

"More than a little, less than a lot," Jane answered. "Or is it more than a lot, less than a little?" He frowned. "I don't know. My brain feels all fuzzy…"

"This is my place, Jane," she replied with a long-suffering sigh. "You've been here before, remember?"

His grin turned suggestive again. "Oh, Lisbon, I had no idea…"

"Shut up, Jane," she said, glaring at him. She hoped with all her heart that her embarrassment wasn't showing on her face. "I just don't trust you not to do something stupid if I leave you on your own. You can sleep on my couch."

"I'm fine," Jane replied. "I did my…bio-feedy thingy, so I'm all good. Excellent in fact. Wonderful…"

"Jane you don't even have the mental capacity to _say _bio-feedback right now," Lisbon interrupted before Jane could get into too much of a roll. "So forgive me if I don't believe you. Now, get out the car and inside the house before I call Cho and get him to come over here and make you."

"Harsh, Lisbon," Jane mumbled drunkenly, though he did start to undo his belt. "Anyway, Cho's busy. He's probably even drunkerer than me right now. Drunker. I meant drunker…"

"Shut up, Jane," she replied, though her tone was softer this time.

While it took a lot longer than it normally would, eventually Lisbon managed to get Jane safely out of her car, into her house and finally, onto her couch. Somehow she had a feeling that it was going to be a long night...

"You look tired," Jane said suddenly, as she locked her front door behind them. When she turned to face him once more, she noticed that his eyes looked sad, much sadder than she'd ever seen him look before. Happy drunk Jane had finally gone, it seemed. She already missed him.

"I am tired, Jane," she replied with a sigh when it was clear he'd said all he was going to say, though his eyes didn't leave her face.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I made you tired. I always make you tired."

"The case made me tired, Jane," she replied, walking over to him and taking a seat beside him on the couch. He stank of whisky, but she still caught a whiff of something that was undeniably Jane…

"Did you just smell me?" he asked suddenly, blinking dazedly up at her.

She flushed. "No."

"Are you sure?" he asked, apparently completely serious. He frowned at her.

"I'm…sure," she replied.

"Okay," Jane replied, nodding heavily, his head lulling slightly on his chest for a moment. "Though if you want to smell me, it's okay."

"I don't," she assured him, completely confused by the strange change in conversation.

"Okay," he repeated. "Lisbon, I'm tired. And I feel woozy. And sick. Very sick…"

"I'll get you a bucket or something," she told him, glad for the change in topic. "Just stay here and try not to puke on my couch."

"I would never do such a thing," he argued drunkenly, his words almost completely slurred now. "I love couches. Especially your couch. I like my couch the best, but your couch is special too…"

She left him to ramble while she got up and left the room to find him a bucket. In his state, there was no way she could trust him to find the bathroom in time, and with the amount he'd drunk in the last few hours, there was definitely going to be a urgent need for a toilet bowl at some point.

Grabbing the bucket she kept by her back door to catch a leak she hadn't quite found the time to fix just yet, Lisbon slowly began to make her way back. She had no desire to rush though, especially after the strange turn of their last conversation. She couldn't believe he'd actually caught her smelling him, of all things. All she could hope for now was that he'd drunk enough that his memory of the moment would be fuzzy at best tomorrow. Otherwise it was going to make things very awkward…

As she continued to make her way back though, dawdling almost to the point of insanity, Lisbon allowed her mind to wander. Dealing with Jane on normal days was difficult. Dealing with him drunk was even harder than she'd ever imagined. It had left her severely unnerved, especially with his changing moods, and as she turned the final corner to her living room she couldn't help but wonder what the hell was going to happen next...

She needn't have worried.

Jane was fast asleep.

He hadn't even bothered to lie down, choosing instead to simply lean back against the couch. After a long moment's consideration, and no small amount of staring at his rumbled, yet still attractive figure, Lisbon decided to leave him where he was. After all, he seemed comfortable enough, and at least this way, there was no danger of him choking on his own vomit in the middle of the night.

With that less that pretty image in her head, Lisbon walked over to the couch and placed the bucket beside his feet. As long as he realised it was there, there shouldn't be any problems.

She was just about to turn away and make her own way to bed, when a thought hit her. As quietly as she could, since she definitely didn't want to wake him up, Lisbon picked up her throw that she kept on her other chair and made her way back over to Jane, placing it gently over him.

No sense him being cold as well, she reasoned, shaking herself as she moved away.

With her focus now on her own growing tiredness, however, she missed the small smile that crossed Jane's face as he snuggled further into the blanket she had wrapped around him, and the soft "goodnight" he whispered at her retreating figure.

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**A/N - **So, how did I do? I really enjoyed writing this one, and I hope you liked where I went with it. Since I usually write angsty stories, I wanted to do something a little different this time, so I went for humour and fluff instead. I hope I pulled it off, and that you enjoyed it. Please let me know if you've got a spare minute. For now though, and until my next episode tag, thanks for reading!


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